I think the human body is universally beautiful in all its forms and all its functions. I abstain from bodyshaming not out of a sense of moralistic restraint but because I genuinely believe that all bodies are good bodies. This means I tend not to prize some bodies, or some physical features, over others. All bodies are good bodies. And yet there is something about the beard that shocks the heart, quickens the blood, and holds my very spirit captive.
I love all kinds of beards. I love well-trimmed beards and unruly beards. I love short beards and long beards. I love GQ beards and hipster beards. I love beards on men, women, and nonbinary people. All bodies are good bodies, but also, all beards are good beards.
My friend, voicing genuine concern for my wellbeing, worries that I will fall for any beard that comes along, untroubled by whether said beard would treat me well or care for me in old age. My problem, she says, is that I love beards not wisely but too well.
